


Baby Let's (Line) Dance

by dayishujia



Series: Even the Stars Fall for You [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Country Boy Shiro, M/M, Mentions of Bro Country Music, Mentions of Line Dancing, Shiro is so smitten, There's no actual line dancing in this, even with his sisters hanging off his arm, which is a shame because I think Shiro would be really good at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7784215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayishujia/pseuds/dayishujia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith discovers Shiro takes his little sisters line dancing every week.</p><p>AKA: Shiro invites Keith line dancing with himself and his sisters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Let's (Line) Dance

**Author's Note:**

> So I was at a Texas Roadhouse tonight and, you know, they play only country music there and a really good line dancing song came on and all I could think about was Shiro line dancing. I then went home and watched [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdi8yqDWmCk) excellent line dance, one I've watched a lot cuz it's just so great and seriously. Imagine Shiro doing that, I can't - 
> 
> I'm not exactly sure whats going on with my life anymore but here, have it.

“Wait,” Keith says, interrupting Shiro’s aimless rambling. There’s a smile threatening to break his face in half but he bites his lip. He has an insanely tight grip on his cell phone, pressing it to his ear as he asked, “You line dance?”

Shiro pauses. Keith shifts his position on his bed as he waits, wanting to hear the answer.

“Yeah?” Shiro answers, the word drawing out and up in a question. “With my sisters.”

Keith laughs at that, full and rich, his head smacking against his headboard with the force of it. Unadulterated joy overwhelms him as he lets out a laugh or two. “Oh my, God,” he exclaims. “You really are a hick!”

“Shut up,” Shiro says but he’s laughing too. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not so sure,” Keith drawls in response. Outside he can hear the crickets chirp and the cicadas scream but inside, it’s quiet. Muffled in the background, mostly muted by Shiro’s voice, Keith can hear the inner workings of a big, lively household. “I think it’s pretty funny.”

“Yeah, well,” Shiro hums. Keith can hear something shuffle and he supposes its a textbook or a journal but doesn’t ask. “You’re also a jerk.”

“A jerk you _like_ ,” Keith teases.

He chooses to say like instead of that other word that Shiro sometimes likes to say, usually after a date when he’s kissing him goodnight at his door or just whenever he feels like it. Shiro likes that word but Keith doesn’t – not yet. Maybe soon. But he knows Shiro understands that and Keith supposes that’s reason enough to say it in the future.

“Hm. I’m not sure why, though,” Shiro teases. His tone is light but tired and Keith wonders what he’s been doing all day. He wonders if he was out collecting wood with his father, finding bugs with his baby brother, fixing his sisters’ swing set so they could swing higher.

“Me neither,” Keith responds instantly, instinctively. It wasn’t as if he really believed it or anything... not really, anyway. Not anymore.

“Keith,” Shiro says, sharp like when a rubber band snaps.

Keith can envision the exact expression that was most likely on Shiro’s face right then; all hard lines, knitted bows, and a frown on his pouty lips. It comforts Keith, knowing this was how Shiro reacted when he says something self-deprecating, even when it was just a joke.

“Never mind,” Keith says, instead of any of the sappy shit he sort of wanted to say in that moment. He shakes his head, his overgrown black hair flying about his face and neck, some strands getting caught in his mouth. He pulls those strands out and tucks them behind one ear as he shifts the mobile to his other. “Say, do you wear cowboy boots when you go line dancing?”

“...Yes,” he says but it sounds a little like a question.

A slow smile curls Keith’s lips and he nearly giggles with glee. “Do they have tassels?”

“ _Fringe_?” Shiro asks, correcting Keith’s terminology. All Keith could think was: _you would know, wouldn’t you_? “No, they don’t. They’re actually pretty sharp.”

“I’m not so sure you get to decide that,” Keith informs him. He leans further back against his hardwood headboard, kind of wishing he had gone around Shiro’s place that day. He missed him. Sort of.

Shiro snorts. “Oh? And who is? _You_?” – Shiro chuckles, deep and fond, a resonating noise that warms Keith’s bones and makes him feel light. “– Because remember: I’ve seen _your_ closet, Keith.”

“Fair enough,” Keith concedes, rolling his eyes. Seriously, his fashion choices weren’t that bad. At least he didn’t own any fringe or bellbottoms, which he’s willing to bet Shiro has tucked away in the back of his closet for when the State Fair comes around.

Keith was about to let the subject drop when a new, utterly delightful thought occurred to him. “Ooh, wait! Do you wear those tight jeans too? Like all the boys in those country music videos do?”

“What are you talking about?” Shiro asks, and there’s the shuffling noise again. Keith absently decides that it was definitely a textbook. The book probably was about the Milky Way or Betelgeuse or something – something totally _Shiro_.

“The _jeans_ ,” Keith says, waving his hand about as if Shiro was able to see it and understand the meaning of the random gesture. “Like Luke Bryan or Florida Georgia Line.”

“All that tells me is that you listen to Luke Bryan and Florida Georgia Line,” Shiro says and Keith can practically see the shrug Shiro does in moments like that, when he thinks he’s got Keith cornered.

“Screw you,” Keith admonishes without any real venom. “You know what I mean.”

Suddenly, there’s someone else in Shiro’s room, chattering away and Shiro is responding, his voice barely muffled. He has the mobile away from his mouth, but not off his ear, Keith supposes, for him to be able to hear so clearly.

“No, I don’t think I do,” Shiro teases. “Maybe you should come with us the next time and judge for yourself if my jeans are tight.”

Keith is quiet for a while then he says, “Okay, but I’m not dancing.”

Shiro laughs and it’s like music to Keith’s ears. “Okay.”

* * *

The next time Keith goes over to Shiro’s place it’s nearly a full week later and he’s greeted at the door by one of Shiro’s little sisters, this one named Namie. She was covered in pink and glitter, from her pigtails down to her boots, Keith notes as he’s pulled into the house by her little hand on his wrist.

“Takashi!” Namie screeches, not bothering with greetings or preamble. Her chubby cheeks turned pink with exertion and Keith wonders if Shiro had such chubby cheeks when he was a baby. “Your boyfriend is here!”

Keith’s cheeks color involuntarily at the word ‘boyfriend’. He still wasn’t used to it being used so casually; it was embarrassing, after all. Especially when your boyfriend’s family gets to saying it.

Namie turns to him and informs him that he can go upstairs to Shiro’s room before she turned on the heel of her sparkly pink cowgirl boot and dashes off into the house, shouting for her sister.

“Keith!”

Shiro’s head popped out from the upstairs hallway, grinning at him. Keith can see the collar of a plaid shirt and he flushes – they’re wearing similar outfits. By complete accident of course; it wasn’t like they were one of _those_ couples. Although a part of Keith thought it might be fun to wear couples’ outfits with Shiro.

“Come upstairs,” Shiro says, completely unaware of Keith’s train of thought. “You’re a little early.”

Keith shuffles his sneakers on the doormat because he wasn’t raised in a barn and makes his way up the stairs. Shiro was waiting for him at the top, leaning against the wall until Keith was at the top step, when he reached out and hugged him.

“Hi,” Shiro says, pecking Keith’s lips.

Keith fights back the blush he could feel climbing its way up his neck. “Hi,” he says back, feeling more than a little stupid. He couldn’t meet Shiro’s eyes, keeping his head ducked toward his shoulder instead.

Shiro kisses his cheek this time, brushing Keith’s hair out of his face.

“You really should get a haircut,” Shiro tells him. He takes Keith by the hand and leads him down the hall, toward his bedroom.

Shiro’s bedroom was a small room in the corner, a room that was probably once used as an office or storage space. It barely fit Shiro’s queen-size bed and desk, nevertheless anything else but Shiro kept it looking nice with posters of star charts on his wall and spacecraft models on his desk.

“Are you ready to dance?” Shiro asks. He shuts the door behind them, kicking some discarded clothes to the side.

Keith scoffs. “I’m not so sure you can count this as dancing.”

“Don’t be rude,” Shiro chastises playfully. He flicked Keith’s ear, smiling when Keith makes an offended sound in his throat.

“When do we have to leave?” Keith asks instead of anything else. He plops down on Shiro’s bed, leaning back on it. He was slightly jealous; his bed in his apartment wasn’t nearly this nice. He absentmindedly wonders if Shiro would let him sleep here one night.

“Starts at eight,” Shiro says. He sits in the space to the right of Keith, lowering himself a little more gracefully than Keith had done. “So we’ve got a couple minutes. And, afterward, we usually go for ice cream. Hope you’re okay with that.”

Keith snorts. Of course Shiro would take his sisters for ice cream – _the perfect older brother Shiro_.

“Sounds like a _date_ ,” he says before he could stop himself. It was the truth, though. Shiro’s taken Keith on dates with a similar set up – activity and then food. Usually, it was a full meal but sometimes, when they were pressed for time, it was a treat, like ice cream.

Shiro chuckles. He turns his head to look at him, smiling wider when Keith stubbornly didn’t meet his gaze. “Isn’t it?” he asks, feigning innocence.

Keith scoffs. He glanced at Shiro and rolled his eyes when he saw that trademark stupidly handsome grin plastered on his face. “Your little sisters are going to be there,” he says matter-of-factly, as if it were the one thing Shiro hadn’t realized.

“So?” Shiro shrugs. “They know you, they like you. They know we’re dating.”

Keith shifts, turning away from Shiro a little. Shiro pats his knee, unfazed by Keith’s sudden bout of bashfulness. “It just probably won’t be as lovey-dovey as usual.”

Keith’s face flames up at that. “Lovey-dovey?” he gapes, horrified. They were absolutely _not_ lovey-dovey. Not in the least! What was so lovey-dovey about them? _That’s right_ , Keith thought stubbornly, _nothing_.

“You’re so cute,” Shiro laughs and Keith shoves him.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. His head is ducked again but he turns toward Shiro, pushing the top of his head against Shiro’s shoulder.

Shiro plays with strands of his hair, humming softly. The room was quiet but Keith could hear Shiro’s siblings playing, both outside in the yard and inside, running up and down the stairs.

Keith wonders if every moment of the day was like this here: noisy, but nice. He would even dare to classify it as cozy, more so than any place Keith had ever lived in.

They stay like that for a little while and Keith basked in it. Shiro was warm, soft. His fingers in his hair, combing softly and slowly, methodic and soothing, warming Keith and making him feel appreciated – _adored_ even. Not that he would ever tell Shiro.

Eventually Shiro pulls away, separating them. Keith mourns the loss, wishing it could’ve lasted a little while longer. But he hooks his arm around Keith’s neck and pulls him in, planting a wet kiss to Keith’s cheek. He holds on tighter when Keith starts to squirm. Eventually, Shiro takes pity on him and releases him, lips parting his skin with a soft pop.  

“You’re gross,” Keith says, wiping his cheek.

Shiro laughs and ruffles his hair. He then stands up and takes a step or two from the bed. His hands run along his thighs, smoothing out his jeans. Keith watches the motion, glaring at the back of his head.

“So?” Shiro asks once he was content with the way the material of his pants fell over his legs. He looks at Keith over his shoulder and shifts his hips a little to give Keith a better view. “Are they tight or not?”

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed Shiro's sister's name from Amuro Namie so... she did an awesome song with Jolin Tsai like last year, I think. [Its really good](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7wRb9adQUc).
> 
>  
> 
> [find me on tumblr here](http://lilmissginge.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
